


silvertongue

by arekiras



Series: it took me years to say the words that you did not even need said [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Autistic Alec Lightwood, Communication, M/M, Supportive Magnus Bane, autistic author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 21:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14860407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arekiras/pseuds/arekiras
Summary: "It never goes how he wants it when he plans conversations. He gathers all the words he wants to say in a net, but before he can put them in order they go in different directions. Out his mouth, back in the far reaches of his mind. Clinging to the very tip of his tongue."Alec and Magnus talk about the importance of communication, and Alec shares a piece of himself with Magnus.





	silvertongue

**Author's Note:**

> As always, come talk to me on tumblr or twitter @autisticalecs on both. Taking requests almost always <3

Alec balls his twitchy fingers into loose fists, leaning against the doorway to the balcony. Magnus is silhouetted in murky city moonlight, more tinged with the yellow Brooklyn glow than starlight. He lets Alec sit in broody silence for a few moments before turning with a smirk, saying, “See something you like?” 

Alec’s returning smile is delayed and stilted. But his, “Always,” is honest. Magnus’ smile slides away, however, and he crosses his arms, leaning back against the balcony. 

“What is it?” he asks and Alec sighs. Magnus can read him like a book. Alec wishes he can say the same. He knows Magnus, knows him well. But, apparently, he doesn’t know enough. Not about Magnus, not about anyone. 

“There’s something I think we need to talk about,” he says, hating how solemn he sounds. “Not bad! But important.” That doesn’t help, and Magnus is frowning now. Alec frowns back, already feeling his thoughts slipping down the back of his spine. It never goes how he wants it when he plans conversations. He gathers all the words he wants to say in a net, but before he can put them in order they go in different directions. Out his mouth, back in the far reaches of his mind. Clinging to the very tip of his tongue. 

“I’m listening,” Magnus says, gesturing for Alec to go on. Alec stares at him. He doesn’t know what to say. But he’s been working against this his entire life, and so he clears his throat and throws out the first sentence he can hold onto long enough to form with his mouth. 

“I’m not gullible,” he says. Which, shit. It’s true, but not how he really wanted to start. It sounds like an accusation. Magnus’ eyebrows go up. “I’m not gullible, but you’re a really good liar.” Bad to worse, it seems. Now he’s calling Magnus a liar. He pushes on, “When you tell me you’re alright, I believe you. I’m not easily tricked, but if I assume that you’re lying to me every time I ask you a question, I couldn’t be with you, you know? And I can’t see through and around all of your,” Alec waves his hands around, “Smoke and mirrors. Cloak and dagger. I try? I want to see you, Magnus. And I want to know when things are wrong, because I want to try to make them better. Even if I can’t, I’d rather know than you suffer alone.” 

He pauses long enough that Magnus speaks. “I’m not sure I understand. You know it’s hard for me to be… open.” 

Alec shakes his head emphatically. “Yeah, I know. Of course I know. What I’m trying to say is that I’m autistic.” A stone drops into his stomach, he can feel the echo in his bones. It never gets easier, saying it aloud. Being gay is one thing. People know what it means, even in the crudest manner. 

Autistic can mean any number of things to anyone. It can mean stupid and slow and childish. It can mean that Magnus won’t want to be with Alec anymore. He might feel betrayed, deceived. 

Magnus nods slowly. “Alright.” His eyes are on Alec in a way that means he won’t speak again until Alec does, so Alec takes a breath and continues. 

“If there’s something wrong, I can’t always deduce what it is with the breadcrumbs you give me. Or I won’t be able to figure it out on my own. I know you can’t always be open, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m just saying that maybe you could say that? Instead of brushing me off or lying and pretending. I want to do what’s best for you, what will make you feel the best. Which I can’t do if I don’t have at least some idea of what the problem is,” Alec explains. 

Magnus nods thoughtfully and is silent for a few minutes. “What could I do, specifically?” 

Alec blinks. He wasn’t expecting to get that far so quickly. He expected a long intermission in which he talked about the invasive details of being autistic. He doesn’t say that, though. “I mean… you could just tell me that you don’t want to talk about what’s bothering you? Or that you’d like to pretend that nothing is wrong. Or that you need time.” 

Magnus takes a step closer to Alec, reaching out for his hand. Alec lets him, relieved, nerves zinging with their touch. He never feels as calm as he does when Magnus does just this, holds his hand on the balcony and lets him talk. 

“I could do that. I could certainly try, at least,” he says softly and Alec smiles. 

“I want to be there for you. If I can be,” Alec replies. 

“And I for you,” Magnus smiles back. 

They’re silent for a while, but then Alec can’t help himself. “You’re not upset about me not telling you sooner?” 

Magnus tilts his head, soft brown eyes regarding him with so much liquid warmth that Alec may drown. “No. That’s your business, Alexander. While I support you and want to know how to accommodate you and your happiness, you aren’t obligated to share things like that with me. I’m happy you did. But you didn’t have to.” 

“It doesn’t bother you?” Alec asks. 

“It does not. It’s a facet of who you are, a rather large one I’m sure. But I know who you are, Alexander. And who you are is someone I love very much, and being autistic doesn’t change that. It couldn’t,” Magnus takes Alec’s arm with his other hand and Alec leans in. 

“I love you, Magnus. Thank you,” he says, placing his forehead against Magnus’, so close he can feel it when Magnus blinks. Their atoms vibrate and blur together. Alec feels, for a moment, like he’s melding with Magnus, mixing with him. 

When Magnus kisses Alec sweetly, it washes Alec away. All of his jumbled words and worried ragged nerves slide along in the downpour, replaced by the beginnings of calm and the euphoria of something going very right. 


End file.
